Of Thunder, Rain, and Missing Pants
by lissy303
Summary: "You know, you're really fixating on the fact that I'm not wearing pants, Alistair." What happens when Elissa sneaks in to Alistair's tent in the middle of the night half-dressed? Only because it's raining and her tent collapsed... of course there wouldn't be another reason other than that...


_A/N: Lalala fluff piece. Perhaps a tad OOC for Alistair, but I imagined this scenario and thought it was funny. This was honestly supposed to be a humor piece, but Alistair and Elissa thought otherwise and decided to make it fluffy. In any case, enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Oh, didn't you hear? I bought BioWare and all of the Dragon Age rights. No? That didn't make the news? Drat, just a dream then…_

The wind howled around the tent, making it shake threateningly. Inside, Alistair was chilly but, thankfully, dry. As sheets of rain pounded against the outside of his tent, he became very grateful that he was reminded to patch up the small holes that had been there as recently as yesterday morning.

Thunderous clouds had loomed over them for several days. Elissa had continued to drive them on, eager to reach Denerim sooner rather than later. But when the first claps of thunder were heard followed by sporadic drops of rain, even Sten was convinced that they should make camp.

It was a good thing too. Not so soon after they had set up their tents and had split the remaining food amongst each other did the skies open up, and the rain fell heavily through the afternoon and the night. While it was never fun camping outdoors during this kind of weather, Alistair prided himself on a job well done of making sure his tent was sturdy. He found relief in the rain and allowed the thunder to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

But that was last night. Alistair had awoken with a start by a loud clap of thunder in the late morning (possibly early afternoon, it was difficult to tell). He had peeked his head out of his tent, and through the heavy rain could vaguely make out a few of the other tents that had candles burning inside. The pouring rain made it impossible to travel again, and everyone was stuck in their tents for the day, lest they chance getting soaked to the bone.

For a short time, Alistair was grateful for the day off. He pulled out his candles and a book and relaxed, munching on some dried fruit. But soon enough, he ran out of food, his book started to become dull, and he began to feel lonely. The others were so physically close to him, but no one wanted to brave the rain for a quick conversation.

Finally, the sun completely set, making the words on the page of the book he wasn't even reading any more difficult to make out in the flickering light of the candles. Sighing and cursing the side effect of constant hunger, he set aside his book, blew out the candles, and curled up in his bedroll, hoping that sleep would take him soon.

It was pointless, however. Alistair was restless, tossing and turning on the ground, and just could _not_ find a comfortable position. Grumbling, he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling of his tent, watching the branches above bend with the wind and make shapes with the lightening.

He allowed his mind to wander, which was always a dangerous thing to do. Recently, he began daydreaming about his fellow Grey Warden more often than not. After overcoming the overwhelming grief of losing Duncan and all the other Grey Wardens, it had dawned on Alistair that Elissa was… well, female. Of course she was female, and he had known that _before_… it just sort of hit him all at once that he was travelling with a very attractive woman who was very capable with her swords and who was very compassionate and very beautiful and…

He signed, bringing his hand to his forehead. It had to be bad when even he realized his _thoughts_ were a rambling mess.

He continued to daydream about the day not too long ago when he realized he wanted to do _something_ to show how wonderful he thought she was. He had presented her with a beautiful rose he had found during their travels to Lothering. At the time, he didn't know why he picked it, but it made perfect sense when he gave it to her. She had smiled so much that day, and Alistair was well aware that he could not keep his own grin off his face.

Innocent memories turned into fantasies as he imagined her professing her love for him, and he in a heroic yet gentlemanly fashion telling her that he loved her as well. And then they would kiss, lips tenderly playing against the other's, Alistair allowing his hands to run through her flowing hair, Elissa letting her hands graze down his back, her fingertips softly digging into his skin…

Alistair wiggled under his blankets, uncomfortably warm. _Not much of a gentleman now, are you?_ he thought idly to himself.

Well, he was still a _man_. He could still be a gentleman if he didn't _act_ on those particular urges.

His argument with his own mind was silenced when he became distracted by foreign noises outside his tent. He listened intently. Through the rain, he thought he heard someone angrily cursing, though it was hard to tell what exactly was being said, and rummaging as though they were taking down their tent. Yet why anyone would take down their tent in this weather was beyond him…

Suddenly, his tent flaps flew open and a figure came rushing in, cursing quietly. Alistair jumped up, sword in hand, gasping as cold drops of water hit his bare chest.

"Alistair, it's me."

Alistair put his sword down at the familiar voice, but didn't move to sit down. "Elissa?" He asked. He could barely see the outline of her body in the dark, but her wild mane of hair was impossible to mistake. "What are you doing here?"

He heard her drop something to the ground, followed by the unmistakable quiet _clash_ of her swords falling on each other. "My tent collapsed," she said simply.

He raised his eyebrows at the figure, though he knew she couldn't see him. "Your tent… collapsed?"

"You didn't hear that strong gust of wind?" Alistair could feel his cheeks warm… he hadn't exactly been paying attention to the weather. "I was helping Oghren with his tent for too long yesterday. Damn drunk… I didn't have time to properly secure everything. I'm surprised it held up for this long. Oh well, I'm glad I at least found the right tent."

"The right tent?" He silently cursed himself… couldn't he think of saying anything else other than just repeating her?

She didn't seem to notice. "I hope you don't mind me crashing here for the night. Hopefully the weather will clear up by the morning. I don't think any of us could stand being stuck in tents for another day. Do you have an extra shirt I could sleep in? Mine got completely soaked through when I was running here."

Now his brain decided to stop functioning all together. "_What?_"

"The shirt I'm wearing is drenched. I can't sleep in it. Do you have a dry shirt I could borrow?"

Alistair tried to make sense of what was happening. Was Elissa really in his tent asking to spend the night and sleep in his clothes? This had to be a dream. A very odd yet extremely realistic dream.

"Alistair?" Elissa's voice rang through the tent. Alistair still hadn't answered her, and she was beginning to think that maybe she made a mistake by coming here. "If you don't want me to stay… I suppose I could try to find Leliana's tent. Or Zevran's."

"No." The mention of the elf's name snapped Alistair back to reality. While he realized that he shouldn't be jealous of whatever relationship Elissa and Zevran might share, he still felt as though they were… _competing_. Alistair would never admit it, but he liked to think himself ahead in the game of winning Elissa's affections. He did _not_ want to give Zevran that advantage. "No, no. Sorry. You just, uh, startled me. Um, shirt, yes, I have one… somewhere." He dropped to his knees and began to feel around for his discarded shirt.

"Here," she said quietly as she lit a candle from behind him. With the extra light he was able to spot his shirt resting on the top of his pack. He snatched it and turned to give it to her, but froze before he could reach her.

Elissa was kneeling next to him, her normally tightly wound mahogany hair loose and weighed down by the rain. The shirt that she wore was completely soaked, though thankfully thick enough that it did not become sheer. And her legs were completely bare.

"Maker's _breath_, you're not wearing any pants!"

Elissa took the shirt from him, snorting while she blew out the candle. In the dark, Alistair could no longer see her, but images of her bare legs flashed through his mind.

"And you're not wearing a shirt," she said pointedly. "I can't sleep in pants. And attempting to find a pair was not really a priority when I was trying to get out of the rain." He could feel her turn her back on him. Though he couldn't see anything but a faint outline, his eyes widened as he realized he was watching her take off her shirt. He quickly jerked his head around while she slipped on his shirt, his face igniting.

"Much better," she sighed happily, scooting closer to him. _Oh_, he thought. _There's only one bedroll…_

"Here, take the bedroll. The ground's not too bad." He said, sliding around her and accidentally grazing her shin with his hand. Or was it her thigh? _Thank the Maker it's too dark for her to see me_.

"Alistair, I'm not kicking you out of your space. We can share." She moved to the side of his bedroll, giving him some space. Alistair hesitated. The woman whom he was falling in love with was in his tent, half clothed, inviting him to share a bedroll. _You're reading far more into this than it really is_. Her voice broke him from his thoughts. "After everything we've been through together… we're adults, we can sleep next to each other for a night. Besides, there's only one blanket. I'm not allowing you to be a 'gentleman' and freeze and get sick in the middle of the night."

He took a few deep breaths, trying desperately to calm his rapid pulse. Nodding in agreement, unaware if she could see him or not, he began crawling back towards her. Slowly, as if in a dream, he inched his way towards her, fully ready to wake up at any second. It was only when his knee got tangled up in something and one of her swords slid and poked him in the side of the hand did he realize that he was fully awake. "Ow…"

"Sorry!" She quickly kneeled in front of him, her arm brushing across his shoulder, and reached for whatever it was he ran into. "It's just the bag that I grabbed on my way out. Are you ok?"

"Fine." His voice was a bit higher than usual, but it was not from the pain of the sword hitting him. She leaned back and sat on the bedroll, waiting for him. Slowly, he slid himself under the blanket and gently tossed the other side over her. He laid down facing her, unsure of what she would do. She too laid down, facing away from him so that her back fit snugly against his chest.

And her very cold, very wet hair also pressed against his chest.

He inhaled sharply, shock running through his system from the sudden coldness on his chest. The feeling wasn't painful; it was… _wicked, _sending a thrill to the tip of his toes. She leaned away, grabbing her hair from his chest, and her physical distance from him suddenly made him feel empty.

"Sorry!" She repeated. If he wasn't in such a state of… whatever he was in a state of, he would have found this whole thing comical. Before he could even mourn the new distance, she turned herself over so that she faced him and snuggled back into his chest. Without thinking, he brought an arm to rest over her, pulling her closer. He could feel her smile against his shoulder as she reached up and rested her hand on his chest.

This was… _nice_.

It was wonderful, really. Having never laid down with a woman before, he was quite content at how well she fit against him. And while Alistair had never been a man that allowed himself to become too proud, he could help but feel his ego swell over the fact that she chose him. Not even necessarily over anyone else. Just that she chose to seek him out when she needed someone.

Alistair realized he was even more restless than he had been before; what man wouldn't be with having a beautiful woman in your arms for the first time? Sleep would elude him, but he found that he didn't mind so much now. He was quite content with laying here silently, just feeling Elissa in his arms. But judging by the constant tickle on his shoulder from her fluttering eyelashes, he realized that Elissa was not ready for sleep, either.

"So I have to ask," he heard himself say. His voice was quiet, and he felt her shift slightly in anticipation of his question. "What's so important in that bag that you remembered to grab that while not even looking for a pair of pants?

Her face against his shoulders suddenly felt a bit warmer. _Is she blushing?_ Still, he felt her smile against his shoulder. "A few things I'd rather not lose in the rain."

Alistair smiled as well, pulling her more tightly against him, though careful to not let his arm wander too far down. She in turn snuggled closer and allowed one of her legs to slip between his. "So you're saying, if we were suddenly attacked by darkspawn, in the heat of battle, you would remember to grab that bag, but not your breeches?"

"Alistair," she chuckled, warm breath gently rolling over the skin on his chest. He tried not to let himself get too distracted, though he let out a quiet laugh of his own when he felt her face warm up even more. "They're just things that are... important for me to keep around."

"And what is so important that you lose your pants over them?"

"You know, you're really fixating on the fact that I'm not wearing pants, Alistair," she said sarcastically. Her fingers started tracing shapes along his chest, gently tugging on his chest hair, and Alistair vowed that he would keep his focus, despite the tingling sensations her gentle movements were causing elsewhere in his body. "Just, you know. An extra dagger, some health potions and salves, my water skin..." she mumbled the rest incoherently into his chest. He furrowed his brows, knowing his misheard that last one.

"Did you say 'my nose?'" He asked, absentmindedly tracing patterns along her arm now.

"Your rose, Alistair."

"My... oh." Alistair stopped his movements, surprised. Elissa continued moving her fingers along his chest and turned her head slightly to face him, though she could not see him. "So... you kept it?"

Her warm breath released from another quiet chuckle was going to drive him mad. "Yes. Of course I kept it." She slid her arm underneath his and around him, letting her fingers gently glide up and down his back. Oh, Maker... This was just like his fantasies... "I... it really means a lot to me, Alistair. I'm not sure I made that clear."

Before he realized what he was doing, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I meant every word I said, Elissa." He felt her smile against him again, and the pair laid in silence for a while, allowing the sounds of thunder and the rain against the tent lull them to sleep.

Except Alistair still was not tired. He could tell that Elissa, though she had ceased moving, was still awake as well. And he had the inexplicable feeling that now was the time to keep talking, and to let her know how he felt...

"So all this time we've spent together… you know, the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us… will you miss it once it's over?" he heard himself ask.

He felt her breath gently roll across his chest, not from laughter, but from a heavy sigh. "There will always be more battles to fight, somewhere." Simplicity was always her approach. It was one of the things Alistair respected most about her; she was never the type to get sidetracked easily. Still, her answer did not set up what he wanted to say that easily.

"But that doesn't mean we would necessarily be fighting them… together." He felt Elissa tense up, waiting for him to continue. Alistair took a deep breath, nerves raging inside of him, but he continued on, realizing there was no turning back now. "I know it might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but… I've come to… care for you, a great deal. I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together. I… I don't know." His nervousness took over, and he lost his train of coherent thought. "Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself. Am I? Fooling myself?" he rambled. "Or do you think you might ever… feel the same way about me?"

"Alistair…" Her voice was hesitant, but she did not remove her arm from around him. And Alistair understood. The two of them had lost so much; it had become, quite frankly, terrifying to allow yourself to care deeply for another person. What if he lost her? Or if she lost him? Though they were both skilled fighters, there was always that chance…

But Alistair didn't care. For once, he wasn't about to let the 'what if's' hold him back from something that he wanted. And he _wanted_ Elissa. He wanted to love her, and for her to love him. He wanted to hold her and take care of her and if the Maker saw it fit that they both survive this whole ordeal, he wanted a life with her. He wasn't going to let her fear stand in the way, either.

She turned her head again to look up at him. Her arm slithered out from under his and she brought it in between them, her fingers resting gently at the base of his neck. He could feel her shaky breaths from the internal struggle that must have been going through her mind. "It's too soon…"

No, it wasn't. If anything, it was almost too late. He angled his head towards her, and he realized how easy it would be to just lean in and kiss her. Alistair was never one to take chances, but maybe now was a good time to start. "Is it too soon for this?" he heard himself ask. Leaning his head down, he gently pressed his lips against hers.

Her lips were warm, almost hot, under his. She seemed taken aback by his tenacity and froze; unsure what was going on and what to do. So for the first time since Ostagar, Alistair took the lead. He gently kissed her, as if it was nothing new or nothing strange, until she finally relaxed and began to return his kisses. Her arm came around his neck, her fingers gently running through his hair, and Alistair happily sighed at the feeling.

His tongue slowly slid over her lower lip, and he couldn't help but feel his ego swell as he heard her gasp and felt her shutter. A low moan escaped him as her tongue met his and her fingers gently tugged at his hair. Alistair suddenly felt the urge to roll her on to her back, to feel her body under his, to feel her bare knees wrap around his bare waist…

With much effort, Alistair broke the kiss, keeping his forehead resting against hers. Her thumb gently ran across his cheek as they both attempted to calm their labored breathing.

"I don't know. I'll need more testing to be sure."

Oh, that's right, he had asked her a question. Something about being too soon for kissing her. Well then, that answer certainly cleared things up. He chuckled, letting his fingers comb through her hair. "Well, I'll have to arrange that then, won't I?" He leaned back down and gently, chastely, kissed her lips. "Maker's breath, but you're beautiful."

She leaned up to him and placed her own lips on his. "You can't see me in the dark," she chuckled, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I don't need to. I think that every time I look at you." She only laughed and kissed him again.

And that is how the night went on. Bits of conversation here, kisses and exploration there, all kept quiet by the rain that eventually lulled them both to sleep wrapped in each other's arms.


End file.
